


A New Leaf

by orphan_account



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 19:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11858106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Pear Butter adjusts to her new life as an Apple while carrying her first foal.





	A New Leaf

**Author's Note:**

> I've had the song from The Perfect Pear in my head for the last two weeks. It really is a catchy song.

Pear Butter hitched the small apple cart to her back. A lot of things about harvesting apples and harvesting pears were the same, and those were the jobs that she had taken over – the manual jobs. She hadn't been able to try her hoof at cooking apples, but maybe she would when winter came. She first had to get to know the different types of apples, what they should be used for, their texture and consistency, as Granny Smith had said.

It had taken her moons to stop treading around Sweet Apple Acres as if she were an invader. The old pear farm was just on the other side of a fence and she could see the whole of it from their bedroom window. She had watched the pear trees wilt and decay as the seasons went by. The orchards had all been taken over by weeds. She had had to watch them die while she tended to the apple trees. She was almost glad her old Pa wasn't there. She wouldn't have been able to look him in the eye.

Pear Butter's belly strained as she dragged the apple cart to the barn. The foal was getting heavy. She had to stop to take a breath.

Bright Mac came out of the barn. “Just look at you! You can't be doing that in your condition.”

He stood beside Pear Butter and gave the cart a kick to knock the bar onto his own back.

“I should be able to! Brown Betty was working right up until her foal was born. I don't know what's gotten into me.”

“Never mind her. You take care of yourself now, Buttercup.” Bright Mac kissed her cheek.

In the kitchen Granny Smith was rolling out dough for apple pies. Pear Butter heaved herself into a chair and let out a sigh. Granny Smith looked over her shoulder.

“That's quite a belly you're getting there, huh?”

“I know! I'm huge! This foal's going to be the size of me by the time it comes out.”

“That's 'cause you're growing an Apple. A good Apple is big and firm. I was in just the same state with Bright Mac.” Granny Smith gave her another glance. “What can I get you to perk you up, Buttercup?”

Every pony called her Buttercup now. Even Chiffon Swirl only called her Pear Butter in private. Buttercup had gone from being Bright Mac's special nickname to just her name. Granny Smith had started it. Granny Smith wouldn't hear of the word 'pear' anywhere. She had never said so, but it had been part of an understanding between the two mares from the moment Pear Butter had asserted herself as an Apple at her wedding. Granny Smith had treated Pear Butter as part of her family when her own father had disowned her and so Pear Butter had to give up being a Pear, because she was now an Apple.

Of course her foal would be an Apple too. There would be no recognition of its pear heritage. There would be no mention of pears to its ears and no taste of pears to its tongue. Pear Butter realised that what she really wanted in that moment was sweet, creamy pear butter.

“Got any apple butter?”

Granny Smith took a jar from a cupboard and put it on the table with a spoon. Pear Butter unscrewed the lid and stuck her hoof in. It was all going down. It was sharp and a little sour, but it was close enough to what she wanted.

She went to bed early that night – not to sleep, but to make herself comfortable. She propped pillows behind her back, wrapped the blanket over her shoulders and opened up a book.

Bright Mac came in with a mug of apple and cinnamon tea in one hoof and seemed to be hiding something behind his back with the other. His mane and tail were damp and he smelt of soap, as if he had just taken a bath. He put the tea on the side table.

“Can I join you?”

Pear Butter lifted the blanket. “Come on in.”

She was almost thrown up into the air as the mattress bounced under Bright Mac's weight. He pulled the blanket over him, and there was none left for Pear Butter.

“I should 'a said no.”

Bright Mac pulled her into his arms. He made an even better pillow than the heap that she had stacked behind her. A jar appeared in front of her face. It was what Bright Mac had been hiding.

“Is that...?”

“Pear butter. Yup.”

Pear Butter took it from him, unscrewed the lid and took a deep sniff. There it was, the mellow fruity scent that she'd been missing.

“Where did you get this?”

“There was a travelling stall at the market. From Canterlot.”

“Oh, it must 'a been my auntie's.” It was too much effort to turn around and kiss him, so she kissed his hoof instead. “How did you know I was craving this?”

Bright Mac chuckled. “You always crave it. You're a pear.” He ruffled the top of her mane.

Pear Butter went into labour on a warm autumn day when Bright Mac and Granny Smith were working hard in the orchard. She called the hospital and they told her that a midwife would be over in a couple of hours. She was still in the early stages.

By the time Bright Mac and Granny Smith had got in, the midwife had been there for ages and there was no sign of the foal wanting to come out. Bright Mac cantered about the house, fetching towels, extra towels, buckets of hot water, hot water bottles, tea and biscuits and scissors (though the midwife had brought her own).

The foal was finally born late into the night. The midwife cleaned and dried it, then placed it in Pear Butter's arms. It was a big colt with a deep pinkish-red coat and a ginger mane and tail. He quickly fell asleep. The midwife packed her things and went to deliver the news to Bright Mac and Granny Smith.

“Ooh, what did I tell y'all?” crowed Granny Smith. “He's a big 'un, just like his Pa!”

Bright Mac's grin stretched from ear to ear. He took the baby in his arms. “Welcome to the family, son. He's the exact same colour as Pa's sister, ain't he?”

“Sure is,” said Granny Smith. “He's a true Apple.”

Pear Butter yawned. She felt like she'd been lying in the bed for days. She was sweaty and exhausted.

“I'll run you a bath, darling,” said Bright Mac. He and Granny Smith went out.

Pear Bear stroked the tuft of orange hair. “You're a pear too, my baby,” she whispered. “You've got my hair. You're my little pear hair.”


End file.
